Giving Up on You
by RebbieChan
Summary: Korra's mental state during her recovery after the battle with Zaheer.


_I can't do this._ Her arms shook with the strain, hands gripping with all her might. Slowly she shook her head and willed herself forward. _I _can _do this._ Her leg lifted, feeling bare and bony, like a skeleton under a cloak. Down it came, toes barely inching against the wood floors. Before she could put more weight on it a searing pain shot up and into her spine. She wobbled, her arms instinctively releasing and moving to wrap around the pain spreading through her hips.

Korra fell to the floor. Her shoulder hit hard and she didn't have the strength to roll over, get up, or start again. She could feel Katara at her side, but she kept her eyes shut tight. She didn't want to see that look on her face, not again. She slammed her fist against the floor and let out a shout.

It only hurt her hand more than anything else. A pointless gesture, just like all of this. There just wasn't any energy left in her blood and in her bones. Weak. Helpless. Like on that Cliffside, the air drawn out of her lungs…

Korra shuddered and tried to think of something else. It overtook her in a cold wave and an internal fire, splashing over her and boiling on her skin.

She couldn't escape it. His eyes stared up at her, disturbingly serene in the violence. Nothing inside her but a rage that shook her to her core. Korra moved her arm to slam it down again, but could only raise it a few inches.

Katara helped her up and into her chair. She brought water and something to eat. "You are making progress," the old woman insisted. "It will take time, but you are getting there, Korra."

Her eyes were swollen, staring down at the platter in her lap. She knew in her head that she had to eat, that it would give her the energy she needed, but it felt pointless. It felt exhausting.

She let her head roll back and she stared up at the ceiling, making no notion that she had heard the master bender. Her breathing had not calmed. Sweat spread across her skin, pouring out of her like a reverse of the poison that had been forcibly absorbed into her bloodstream. Korra fought the impulse to send the tray across the room, crashing into a wall. She wanted to grab the handles of that chair and smash it over and over into the floor until it was nothing but a pile of wood and metal spokes. She knew that even if she tried, she would not be able to do it.

She had once been so strong. Korra had thought she could do anything, solve anything. With her strength, her bending, and her friends she was unstoppable. How quickly had she completely lost all control. A couple of chains and some concoction, and her body acted like it wasn't even hers anymore.

It was as if the poison was still in her veins.

It was taking a toll on her. Carried around stairs. Sitting like a child having to be dressed, or bathed. Not being able to cook for herself because in her chair she couldn't reach the counters or stovetops. Not being able to control her movements on icy spots, having her mother or father or a White Lotus member wheel her along over it. And even hearing that word _Lotus_ was too much some days, knowing there were others out there, knowing that Zaheer was alive in some prison somewhere, with the possibility of another escape looming over her.

The worst was laying in her bed on all those sleepless nights wondering if the Red Lotus was right. That maybe the world didn't need an Avatar, especially not one so weak that she couldn't even go to the bathroom on her own.

It was another one of those nights, staring up at the ceiling, occasionally focusing on her legs and willing helplessly for them to move. She lifted on leg a few inches into the air and felt it fall back down again. Her heart still raced, unable to calm it, unable to shake the feeling that she was falling, that jolt along her spine and the clutch in her stomach, somehow feeling new despite it lasting hours.

What had she accomplished as Avatar? She had let herself be cut from all past avatars, she had made a mess with the opening of the spirit portal, and she placed the entire Air Nation in danger when they were used as leverage to get to her.

She had been able to keep fighting, even just barely among the most painful physical ailments, so why couldn't she get through this? Korra pushed herself to lay on her side. It hurt her hips too much so she lay on her stomach, instead, letting out a frustrated growl. She was fighting, fighting so hard, but it felt like she wasn't trying. It should have been easy. A few weeks and she should have been on her feet. It had been over a year now. It felt too long. It felt like, despite her efforts, she had already quit.

Around her room lay letters, ones from her friends that she had read again and again, and ones that she had tried to write but never sent. She had books, but had never been much of a reader. Most of them lay unfinished, stacked against the walls so they wouldn't clutter and get in the way of her wheelchair. She even had set up a projector and watched Bolin's dumb movies against her wall a few times. They made her laugh and made her miss her old life.

She missed Bolin's humor and honesty. She missed the air-kids Jinora, Ikki, Meelo, and baby Rohan whom always felt more like cousins than the twins. She wanted to pick them all up in a large polar bear dog hug. She missed Mako his sense of justice and determination in all and any situation that came their way. She missed Asami the most, the ease of her presence, their differences, and how they could do anything with one another and somehow find a way to have a good time.

Korra sat up, moving to the edge of her bed in front of her chair. She grabbed the arms and carefully sat herself in it. She wheeled herself out into the cool night air. It helped her calm down on nights like this one. It reminded her of that day when Aang came to her and returned her bending. Even though she knew she couldn't reach him, the memory some nights was enough.

She couldn't meditate right, at least it didn't feel right stuck in that chair. The sun wouldn't come up for a few more hours. Her mind darted around and it didn't seem like the panic was easing off. Korra reached back for the wheels, thinking she would go to the bathroom. She pushed back, only to stay in place. _Stuck again_, she thought and applied more force. Instead of moving through it, she tipped and crashed onto her back.

For a moment she lay there, before thrusting her arms back against the ground, bending the earth to knock her upright. She stumbled forward, her legs crumpling underneath her. She spun her arms out in front of her, whipping up wind to keep her from falling. Korra glanced back to see if she could simply ease into the chair. It was at an odd angle, almost halfway tipped over with the earth poking underneath it. She stretched out her arm, trying to spread out her air bending to readjust the seat but doing so weakened her. She found herself falling again, this time forward against the chair. Her knees hit the ground and explosion of pain forcing through her.

Korra doubled over, sending the chair spinning away from her and out of reach. She collapsed on the ground. She tried again to bend the chair over to her, but she couldn't get off up. She couldn't move the air more than a flutter.

She couldn't do it.

Korra closed her eyes. She was on that cliff. Her body was fighting against her. She couldn't fight. Zaheer came at her. He was coming at her. She was alone. She couldn't do anything. The chain on her arm weighed her down. She could not bring herself to stand against him. He was coming! He was coming!

"Mom!" Korra shouted. She didn't know whether or not anyone would hear her out there. Sweat poured down her back as she tried to push herself up. Everything was spinning. "_Mom_!" She shouted again, "Help!" She was going to be sick. Her arms were bent underneath her. She strained harder. She couldn't do it.

_I can't do this. _She pushed. _I'm too weak._ Her forehead pressed against the earth. "_Mom!" _She cried. She felt hot tears in the corners of her eyes. Korra tried to tell herself not to cry, that she would be fine, but she couldn't shake it. She couldn't shake him. He was coming at her and there was nothing she could do. "Dad! _Somebody!"_

From somewhere, a light. Footsteps. All she heard was a roaring wind, her shouts, her heartbeat. Her breath, hot, loud, ragged. She couldn't escape.

"Avatar!" There was a hand on her shoulder.

Korra knocked the arm away, fire ripping in the space between her and the White Lotus member who had come to help. "Stop!" she shouted. The force landed her on her side and she got a look at the man. It wasn't Zaheer. He backed away a little. Her chest heaved, her entire shoulders and upper body moved, shuddering with each breath.

This shouldn't be happening. It shouldn't be affecting her so much. He shouldn't be in her head. She shouldn't be in her head. Not powerless like that. Not so out of control.

Dizzy and nauseous she blinked, trying to see reality and not her nightmares. Her parents were hurrying towards her, followed by another White Lotus guard. Her mother took her into her arms, holding Korra tight against her chest. "It's alright, Korra, you're safe now," she whispered softly, rocking her daughter. Tonraq knelt beside them, placing his hand on her arm.

Slowly Korra calmed down. Her breathing returned to normal. She stopped shaking so violently.

She had been so strong.

Now she felt like nothing.

—-

Katara reminded Korra, that she had bent that night. That strength was still there, somewhere. She told her to set goals, small ones to reach that person she had once been. Korra began to walk.

She began to train.

She began to meditate.

She was making steps forward.

As she fought and as she focused her energies Korra didn't feel like any progress had been made. She heard nothing when she meditated, felt nothing of Raava, felt nothing of the spirits. All she heard were her out shouts and cries from that day, the sound of wind, the taste of blood in her mouth. When she trained, she felt punches pulled, a lack of force behind her bending as is the elements were for just for show, and she felt Zaheer at her back ready to pull the air from her lungs.

She had been in avatar state, her supposed strongest, yet had been so weak, so fragile and unable to defend herself. As she meditated, she found herself questioning if she wanted to go back to that. Her goal was herself as she had been at her strongest, but at her strongest she had been powerless.

She pushed herself too far. She could see it in Tenzin's eyes when he came to visit. She could see it in Katara's eyes after meditation sessions. Heard it in her parents' voices after long days of training.

She had to. Korra had to push herself. After each session, bruised in body and spirit, she cursed herself to go further. Surpass that version of herself on the cliffs. There was no other way she could see.

Korra felt good about leaving the Southern Water Tribe. She could see her friends. On the surface at least, she appeared to be the same old Korra. That would be enough for them and for Republic City.

The surface wasn't enough. If she couldn't fight off a couple of petty thieves, how could anyone take her seriously as the Avatar? How could anyone accept her back? She was there, that version of herself, haunting her. Korra felt the panic coming on as she approached the city.

She wasn't good enough. She wasn't strong enough. That version of herself only proved that she never was to begin with. She gave into the fear that coiled inside her. Korra turned away from the city.

What else was there to do? Over two years and she hadn't recovered enough to show her face. In those dark pits of her mind where that version of her dwelled she believed without question that she hadn't recovered to that Korra she had made her goal because that Korra didn't exist. If she ever had, she no longer did.

Korra stationed herself somewhere just off the coast of an Earth Kingdom city. Who she had been was not who she was. It that dark place, with her own eyes on her, judging her every movement, she felt it.

Korra reached up and gathered her hair, pulling it tight. She was giving up on that person she fought to become for years. She placed the knife against the strands, cutting herself free with all her might. She would never be that person again.

* * *

**A/N: **I posted this on tumblr first which is kinda what i've been doing lately. Maybe not with future Korra stuff since I do not know many LOK fans on there. Anyway, kinda just about the really bad place Korra is in and has been in for the past 3 years.**  
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